


nothing short of magical (and beautiful to me)

by lionettscourage



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Desi Harry Potter, Gen, No Dursleys AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-20 22:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21064124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionettscourage/pseuds/lionettscourage
Summary: Once the familiar pop of apparition has faded, she stares at Harry Potter, a pale bloom of jagged lines against his dark forehead and knows that she cannot leave him there.or, McGonagall takes Harry.





	nothing short of magical (and beautiful to me)

She sticks around all day. A good many witches and wizards have debated the subject of animagii consciousness, coming to a general conclusion that though the thoughts and feelings of the wizard in question would remain the same, that they would be dulled, simpler. Minerva McGonagall, who sits for nearly twelve hours on the corner of Privet drive, her back too stiff for a simple tabby cat and her eyes too attentive, thinks that this is (if you will pardon her language) is absolute poppycock.

Slow blinking, tabby cat eyes watch Dudley Dursley’s fists ball up, ready to throw a tantrum at the mere idea of not getting his way. Twitching, striped ears listen to sniping comments thrown out by Mrs. Dursley and dismissive grunts from her husband. She remembers a young girl returning from summers with forced smiles and biting, acerbic commentary to throw at the feet of any bully she came across (Lily Evans would later turn to hexes, to the fond exasperation of Minerva). Once, and only once, does Lily confide in her head of house – telling her of Petunia’s cold eyes and harsh whispers. It is enough to make Minerva hate this muggle girl, though she thinks that perhaps if she were a better woman, she would not hate a child whose sister had the luck of magic in her veins.

Sitting on this corner, watching this family – a mean family, by her account (and likely that of any neighbor she could have talked to) – things weren’t made any duller or simpler. Her grief for James and Lily still stretched before her, vast and jagged and horrible. Alice and Frank aren’t doing well either (in two weeks, healers will start to be concerned with the Longbottom’s lack of progress. In two years, they will have lost all hope). Her concern about Dumbledore bringing the child here, of all places only grows sharper.

When Dumbledore finally does arrive on the corner, popping into existence when the polite society of suburbia has gone to sleep, she makes her protests. He listens with an ear that has already made up its mind and tells her that Harry would be much too arrogant if he grew up in the wizarding world – surely she can see that. She acquiesces for about as long as it takes for Hagrid to show up with the boy, Harry’s face pudgy and soft and not resembling anyone, and for Dumbledore to place him on the doorstep and disappear.

Once the familiar pop of apparition has faded, she stares at Harry Potter, a pale bloom of jagged lines against his dark forehead and knows that she cannot leave him there.

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted this AU since I first read The Half-Blood Prince when I was 7, so I finally decided to write it. McGonagall is honestly just what Harry needs - stern enough to not let arrogance get to him, loving enough that he would never lack for it. Title from The Mother by Brandi Carlile.


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